Chapter 533: The Nineteenth Day of Transmigrating into an Interstellar World
by 三根木Chapter 533: The Nineteenth Day in the Interstellar World
Comment section:
"I'm really speechless!"
"George is actually GAY too! Is the author even human?"
"I don't think so!"
"Is this novel the first shot of gay men invading the male-focused web fiction scene? Has it succeeded now?!"
"Tsk tsk, come on, why are people still hung up on this? What's wrong with being gay? Accept it! That's what I say! (smirking.jpg)"
"So domineering, I'm all in on this!"
"You're domineering too, and I'm all in as well!"
"If you ask me, don't be so petty. We're all men, what's the big deal about hooking up? We're all bros, damn it! (thumbs up)"
"Honestly, I think the male lead is a bit of a clown! His career arc is super satisfying, but the moment it hits the romance line, it gets weirdly hilarious."
["An Yi's reply to him was silence, because of trust"~~LOL, An Yi probably just couldn't be bothered to type!]
"George gave up way too fast. I hadn't even started shipping them before it was over!"
"You're shipping them?"
"Mind your own business!"
"Wait, haven't you all noticed? Xing Ruize's self-delusion game is practically insane!"
"He can interpret every single reaction from An Yi as 'he's a little different with me'!"
"I think it's the author who's insane! Since the character is written by the author, ultimately it's the author who's insane!"
"Makes sense! Genius! He's cured!"
"..."
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Two years passed like that.
In those two years, Xing Ruize went to the capital planet twenty-three times.
Sometimes he used military missions as an excuse—if the mission only required a one-day stop on the capital planet, he'd tack on an extra day or two. Other times, he simply went on his own: took leave, bought a ticket, and went. He stayed as long as he could, wishing he could hoard all his leave days just to go to the capital planet.
Pretty soon, all of An Yi's teachers, classmates, and coworkers knew exactly who this guy was.
Once, he went to the school to find An Yi and bumped into Cong Tianyue. The old lady saw him, stopped mid-stride, then stood there and gave him a thorough once-over.
That look—like she was sizing up something that had barged in uninvited.
Xing Ruize stood there, feeling antsy under her stare.
Cong Tianyue looked at him for a moment, then spoke: "Xing Ruize, you're here again?"
Xing Ruize nodded: "Yes."
Cong Tianyue just went "mm" and gave him another look.
That look had a "you're a pain in the ass" vibe, like she was eyeing a problem she didn't want to deal with.
Then she said: "If it weren't for how An Yi feels about you, I'd have thrown you out ages ago."
Xing Ruize blinked, thrown off. An Yi's attitude? What attitude?
He wanted to ask, but Cong Tianyue had already turned and walked away.
Xing Ruize stood there, chewing on it for a long time. An Yi's attitude—what attitude was it?
He didn't figure it out, but the next day he went out and bought something—a specialty health supplement from the capital planet, supposedly great for old folks—and made a point of dropping it off at Cong Tianyue's office.
Cong Tianyue looked at the box, her face a mess of emotions, then she shoved the box back at him and shooed him out of the office.
"Take this back!" she said. "Who asked for your junk?!"
As Xing Ruize was pushed out, he glanced back.
Cong Tianyue stood at the door, and she looked kinda disgusted, though he couldn't quite tell.
Xing Ruize never tried to muscle his way into An Yi's life. He was scared that getting chummy with An Yi's circle would make An Yi think he was trying to invade his personal space and privacy. All that... could wait until he had a proper title, a real place in An Yi's life.
But would An Yi ever give him that chance? He used to have no idea, but...
But after that day, he started to get a faint feeling about it.
Because once, An Yi showed him a brand-new engine model he'd been working on. It was a tiny thing, only the size of a fist, with a silver-white metal casing covered in fine, intricate lines. An Yi held it in his palm, walking him through how it worked.
"This boosts small-ship jump efficiency by fifteen percent," An Yi said, his eyes bright. "The trick is optimizing the energy conversion path to cut down on waste. See, right here..."
He pointed at a spot on the model, his fingers long and slim, nails clean and neat. Sunlight poured through the lab window, catching his fingers, the little model, and his eyes.
Xing Ruize didn't really get the technical jargon; he only caught scraps of it.
But he kept his eyes on An Yi's.
When An Yi talked about this stuff, his eyes lit up like they were full of stars. That usual warm-but-standoffish vibe of his would melt away, and he'd come alive, like there was light glowing from inside him.
Xing Ruize loved seeing him like this. Loved it more than he could say.
"You getting any of this, Captain?" An Yi asked suddenly after finishing a section.
Xing Ruize shook his head, honest: "Nope."
An Yi smiled: "Then why are you still listening?"
Xing Ruize said: "Just hearing you talk is enough for me."
He paused, then added: "I could listen to you say anything."
He'd learned to just say whatever was on his mind.
That was what he'd figured out over the past two years—if he kept bottling everything up like he used to, it would just push An Yi further away. All those crazy thoughts, all that self-delusion, spinning in circles in his head a million times—useless. He had to say it out loud for An Yi to ever know.
An Yi glanced at him.
That look—Xing Ruize would replay it in his head for a long time after.
In the following days, he would think about it while lying in bed, during breaks between missions, while eating, and even when sending messages.
The look An Yi gave him was unlike any he'd given him before.
Previously, when An Yi looked at him, it was gentle, distant—that same polite courtesy he showed everyone alike. But in that glance, there seemed to be something more.
Xing Ruize mulled it over for three days and still couldn't make sense of it.
But every time he recalled it, his heart would start racing.
Really, really fast.
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In the third year, relations between the Interstellar Alliance and the Federation started to get tense.
Just as the original story had it, it began with minor skirmishes at the border. Patrol ships from both sides would occasionally encounter each other in disputed zones, chasing each other off, trading warnings—today you shove me out, tomorrow I chase you back. Such friction happened every year, and everyone had grown accustomed to it.
Later, the friction became more frequent and larger in scale.
It went from small clashes to localized battles, from verbal warnings to live fire. Border garrisons were continuously reinforced, and military orders came down one after another, each stamped with red "urgent" labels.
Xing Ruize's team was deployed with increasing frequency.
Previously, three missions a month was considered a lot. Now they were going out two or three times a week, and the missions were becoming more dangerous—shifting from logistics and supply runs to border patrols, and then to armed escort duty.
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